And I think I enjoy conflict
by spinlight
Summary: “It’s not like I look forward to it or anything. Yeah, Benson has become considerably less of a dorkwad but he’s still a nub. The fact that he pays just makes it acceptable to hang out with him everyday.” Sam/Freddie.


**Disclaimer: **Here's the skinny, iCarly, it ain't mine.

**A/N: **I don't know where I'm really going with this but I sat down to write and this is what came out so do with it what you will.

--

_He said go out and get me my old movie stills_

_Go out and get me another roll of pills_

_There I go again shaking, but I ain't got the chills_

--

She has this thriving obsession with the Clash that for the most part is left unexplained because any time anyone ever asks her about it, she resorts to the line every fan of the band has waiting up their sleeve, like an ace. She simply says: _"Because they're the only band that matters." _and then she shrugs and walks away. One night she thought it over and maybe the connection comes from that the music and the experience is so carefree yet they touch on real things, traces of truth wrapped in a four chord guitar riff and English accent. All she knows is the first time she heard _London Calling_, she was hooked. Sam only thought about the reason for her obsession one time though because she doesn't have to justify her musical taste to anyone. The blonde actually might just punch the next nub to ask her about it right in the face to get her point across.

You get a lot of time to think about minding your own damn business sitting in the dentist chair.

Sam grins at the thought while she pulls her tattered band tee shirt over her head and then looks at herself in the mirror. Blonde curls a mess and going every which direction, her trusty _We Set Fires! _shirt fitting smug to her chest in just the right way to distract any boy into doing what she wanted them to do and faded blue jeans which still hadn't been zipped up all the way and buttoned. Picture perfect example of teenage rebellion, if only for a few minutes. It takes her a few seconds to deal with her pants and converses and then it takes her about ten minutes to tame her hair into what society wouldn't considered the stylings of a homeless person and she's good to go for the day.

She grabs her book bag and pushes out of her bedroom and into the hallway, heading towards the kitchen. She has class in about an hour or so, with a twenty minute timeframe that she plans to be late in just for the safety of her English college professor who might go into cardiac arrest if she actually showed up on time. See, she can show consideration for others, kind of. Tossing her bag on the counter top, she moves into the small apartment kitchen and tosses the frying pan onto the stove from where it rested in the sink washed only last night. She grabs the carton of eggs, the package of ham and the bottle of orange juice from the fridge and she's ready to start her day off the right way.

Ham goes in first for two reasons. One, it's one of the most important meats if not things in general in the whole wide world and two, her uncle taught her that using the grease from the meat to cook the eggs in is not only unhealthy but really delicious. Standing there watching the ham start to sizzle, Sam starts rocking back and forth ever so slightly, singing to herself and her breakfast a morning ritual still firmly in tact even after she moved out for college. "So all alone, I keep the wolves at bay. There is only one thing that I can say--"

"How about you say you'll stop using all the hot water in the morning and let your roommate actually have a refreshing shower to start her day off." Carly interrupted, padding into the area drying her hair with a towel.

"Carls, sweetheart, you know that's not how the song goes. I've made you listen to the cd enough for you to know that." Sam grins, poking at the meat in the pan before half turning around to look over at the brunette. "And we've been over this. I need at least thirty minutes of hot water or some innocent bystander isn't going to make it home to their family later on in the day. I'm a gal of certain needs."

"You are needy, yes."

"It's endearing, yeah?"

"It's something." Carly laughs slightly, moving the hair out of her eyes when she is done drying while taking a seat. "So, what's your plan for the day?"

"Let's see…" Sam flips the ham onto the plate waiting nearby and goes about cracking two eggs into the pan which start to cook instantly. Moving them around absently with the spatula, she continued. "I got English in like an hour, then Art History. After that gonna grab some grub with Benson and then head off to work."

Carly sighed. "Man, I wish my schedule matched up to you guys so I could have lunch at the same time."

"You aren't missing much." Sam informed, watching her food cook.

"Then why do you have lunch with Freddie almost every day huh?"

"Okay lady, first of all, don't say it in that tone. It's suggestive and gross." Sam nodded in agreement with herself, sliding the eggs onto her plate and grabbing the bottle of orange juice to take over to the counter where Carly was sitting. "It's not like I look forward to it or anything. Yeah, Benson has become considerably less of a dorkwad but he's still a nub. The fact that he pays just makes it acceptable to hang out with him everyday."

"Keep telling yourself that." Carly just grinned, before frowning when the blonde started piling food in her mouth. "Okay, I'm going to go start getting ready and avoid watching you eat because apparently those etiquette dvds we got you weren't good for anything."

"They were good for coasters, haven't had a water ring on the table since."

"So I spent twenty dollars on coasters, I feel so rich and classy." The brunette girl rolled her eyes and started down the hallway into her room.

"Hey Carls." Sam yelled from the kitchen. "We on for the movies tonight?"

"Can't, going out to dinner with Alex." Carly yelled back.

"Sellout."

"Delinquent."

"Hussy."

Carly stuck her head out of her door with a look of indignation.

"I am not a hussy."

--

Some days, days like this, she really questions why she signed up for Art History because it's like pretty much totally not her thing. Like, at all. She can appreciate a good looking painting or whatever but she really doesn't give a crap about what childhood issue the painter went through that inspired his masterpiece. Everyone has childhood issues; she's had a few herself so paying to hear about some dead guy's daddy problems isn't her idea of a rad time. But she just has to swallow it all with a grain of salt because she needs this class and she's passing at the moment so if she can just stay awake for a few more weeks it'll all be over with and then she can move onto something more entertaining. She should have just taken a music studies class in the first place. Well, she would have if not for the fact she was paranoid that she would sign up and then have to study like a tuba or something for the next semester.

Few more weeks and it'll be over. Though, there is one interesting thing about the class which is the chick who sits next to her, totally has the hots for her and has been flirting like crazy for the last two weeks or so. The girl is pretty cute and obviously has good taste because look who she is lusting over so Sam has been thinking of ways to let her down easy. There is nothing wrong with being gay or anything, It's just not her thing. She figured that out junior year of high school when she contemplated falling in love with Carly or not. Came to the conclusion that in the end, it wouldn't work out and she was just more into guys than girls.

Anyway.

Currently, the blonde is sitting on the back of Freddie's car, waiting for him to get out of his statistics class and then they are going to head over to Inside Out burger. Even now, she couldn't believe that he chose to go to a community college, with all those offers and scholarships to _real _schools. He never really elaborated on it either, just said something about taking some time and easing into things which she figures to mean that all that pressure from his nut job of a mother was wearing on him and he needed some time to figure out shit for himself before he dived back into the world of book learning or whatever. Which is cool, just surprising.

"Now I got a job, but it don't pay." She began, singing absently.

"I need new clothes, I need somewhere to stay?" Freddie continued for her, in a less impressive singing voice as he walked up.

"Benson." She grinned. "Have you been studying up on your Clash like mama told you to?"

"It surprisingly makes for good studying music."

Sam scoffed. "Duh, they make for good everything music."

He nodded. "So you hungry?"

"Were you the recent recipient of a lobotomy?"

"It was a joke." Freddie chuckled. "Of course you're hungry."

"Just get in the car before I pop ya` one." Sam pushed off the back of his car and dropped to the pavement.

The duo slid into his car and were pulling out onto the main road in a matter of a minute or two. When he looked over at Sam, he couldn't help the huff of air that escaped him seeing her position.

"Sam, I told you about putting your feet on the dashboard, you leave shoe marks everywhere."

"A girl needs to be comfortable and you refuse to let me put them in your lap."

Freddie arched a brow over at her. "Because I'm driving."

"And I'm the passenger. It's your job to take me places and make sure I am always happy." Sam nodded in agreement with herself.

"You're confusing driver for chauffeur."

"Well you're confusing me for someone that cares so shut your face."

"Rude." He stated, turning his attention back to in front of him while he pulled into the Inside Out parking lot.

"Quit crying and beat that minivan to the drive thru." She ordered, shifting her feet from the dash to his lap despite his protests. "Get this to go and we can eat in the parking lot of the music store so they stop bitching about me always being late."

"I always tell you to hurry up and finish eating so you won't be late."

"And I always tell you to bite me-- way to go, Benson. You just let the soccer mom out maneuver you."

"Whatever." He leaned back in his seat. "I'm not getting into a wreck because you need a cheeseburger right this instant."

"And that's what makes you a shitty friend."

They sat in silence for a little bit, the radio remaining off because they would fight over the station to the point that violence ensues and while Sam was fine with that, Freddie wasn't. The blonde looked out her window, watching people walking to their cars carrying bags of whatever and that's when a thought hit her.

She turned her gaze back over to Freddie. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Studying, got an exam on Friday."

"Cool, let's go to the movies."

He looked at her with a hint of irritation. "I just said I was studying."

"So what." She started. "You study all the time, it's movie night tonight."

"Go with Carly."

"She's going with that nub, Alex."

He grinned. "Tough luck then."

She narrowed her eyes. "You want to get punched don't you."

The minivan pulled away and he moved the car up to the speaker, sighing a bit.

"What time?"

"I dunno, we'll go to a late one so you can waste your evening studying or whatever."

"Alright, fine." He conceded, like always before leaning as far back into his seat as he could so Sam could lean over him to talk into the speaker. He had the stopwatch on his watch ready to time this bout. She orders so much stuff, her current record is three minutes and fourteen seconds but there is something in the air today.

Today could be the day she breaks the record.


End file.
